Forever Is A Real Long Time

by D-Bakes

for Cecilia

A chilling wind blows across the cemetery as I walk towards my destination near the back. I hate these sunny winter days. If it was up to me, the sky would always match the temperature. Clouds would accompany the cold. The sun would only come out if it was 50 degrees or above. Days like this deceive you into thinking you'll be that spring had come early, and it's safe to go outside without your scarf and jacket, only to be reminded of the dreadful, shivering air of December. Then again, I'm probably being dramatic.

I never liked coming here. Was never good at handling death. Probably a byproduct of being immortal. Took me years to finally move on from Maria. She's buried in this cemetery too. I'm not looking for her though. Besides, coming to her grave wouldn't move me the way it used to. Not the way the graves I'm coming for will. I'm hesitant, and I'm not sure I want this. But this isn't about what I want. This is something I have to do.

Omega trails behind me, so quiet that the only noise from him are his mechanical parts moving as he walks. Contrary to what most people believe, he has emotions. Sure, most of those emotions are "annoyance at meatbags" and "desire to exterminate his enemies." But there's more sides to him. Right now, I can tell he's melancholic. I've been his friend for decades. I can read him like a book now. In the past, I used to be insecure about being an artificial life form. Used to think it meant I was being left out of fully organic feelings, and that all I felt was some mimicry of what I'd recognize in others. Omega made me realize that wasn't true. Even if we were made in labs, we were just as "organic" as anyone else. I have a special connection to him because of this. I'm glad that since he's a robot, he's immortal too. I don't know how I'd handle his passing. It was bad enough when he was attacked by Infinite.

I make it to the plot of land where they've been laid to rest. It's quieter here than you'd think. This cemetery is private. Most people lay their flowers and reefs at the statues erected downtown. I motion Omega over. He's carrying the bouquets. I start to shake a bit as I take a few, placing them on the graves. I do this every holiday season, but it doesn't seem to get easier.

I don't like to look the years on the headstones. Thinking about the chronology of it all just makes it harder. Who passed first and when, how it happened, how it felt. For me, the period of time from the first death to the last just blended together, with its cycles of grief and denial, even though it took well over a decade. When time means nothing to you but a poison that slowly takes away the ones you love, even a quarter century feels like no time at all. I just - damn, I need a moment. I stop placing the bouquets for a couple of minutes to just breathe. Omega puts his massive, pointy-fingered hand on my shoulder. I'm only halfway done. No, I'm halfway through. I can do this.

I'll be honest. I don't do this every year. I often forget. It's hard to have a consistent annual activity when whole weeks seem to pass without you thinking about it. The last six years or so I've gotten my act together. I still feel guilty about all the times I've missed, but that's in the past now. I can honor their memory today to make up for the times I did not.

I finish placing the bouquets, and stand with Omega in the center of the circle of graves. It looks nice. Serene, even. Omega turns his head towards me as if to say something, then turns it back. Guess he doesn't want to ruin the moment. If he won't, I will. "Alright, that's enough," I say aloud. "Time to leave."

The ride home is spent in silence. Omega sits in the bed of my truck while I drive. I'm fully alone now. I think about what I just did. The implications of it all. Years ago we finally defeated Eggman. We had peace. It seemed like all the adventure, all the battles fought, it was finally over, and we could have a tranquil, undisturbed epilogue to our eventful lives. But even the epilogue is over, and Omega and I are still here. What is left for us, heroes in a world that no longer needs heroes like it used to?

I pull into the driveway of my house, walking up to the front door. The graves are still fresh on my mind. Why do I keep going? What's the point of it all when I've outrun my usefulness to this world? What is it I'm living for?

I step inside my house.

"Daddy! You're home!"

Now I remember.

With a soft pitter-patter of his feet, he runs towards me from the living room. My previously grim expression lightens up as I see him, and the intrusive, depressing thoughts leave my mind. I scoop him up in my arms in a tight hug. He nuzzles against my face.

"Hello, Silver. Yes, I'm home."

He always told us he was from the future. Never specified how far. I found out first hand six years ago, when he showed up as an infant on my doorstep. I theorize that an older Silver put him there, but I'm not sure if that would cause a paradox or not. I don't like to think about time travel. I know there's another timeline out there where he grew up alone in a fiery wasteland, and I'm just thankful that's not true of this timeline and leave it at that.

"Where were you, daddy? How come you were gone so long?"

"I just had to take care of some things. You didn't break into the cookie jar, did you?"

"Nope! I stayed far away from it like you asked, like a good boy!"

He's a dirty liar. I can smell the chocolate on his breath. But I'll withhold punishment. For now.

I put him down and he makes his way back to the living room, where I follow. Omega goes to the kitchen. He's been working on his holiday recipes. It may be strange for someone without a sense of taste to be so interested in cooking, but I was not one to judge. After all, even Beethoven wrote symphonies deaf.

Silver jumps up on the couch in the living room, and I have to remind him to take off his shoes if he's going to put his feet on any of the furniture. He apologizes, then complies. I sit down next to him. He has the TV on. He's been watching old Spongebob reruns all day. He prefers seasons one through three. I raised him well.

As I relax on the couch, he snuggles up with me, burying his head in my chest fur. He likes to do that. I've even used shampoo to make it softer for him.

The living room is decorated with tinsel and lights. In the corner, a Christmas tree. We spent all day a week ago getting the whole place set up. I had never done anything like that in my entire life, but Silver wanted a "real" Christmas this year. Before I took him in, I hadn't ever celebrated Christmas. I never saw the point of such a thing. But I've come around to it. For me, it's become a time to reflect on the family I have left. I imagine that for Silver, it's a time to receive whatever toys he likes. Maybe when he's older, he'll come around to my way of thinking.

In a bolt of energy, he suddenly gets up, and starts jumping around. "Daddy! Daddy! I have something to show you! I have something to show you!"

Smiling, I sit upwards on the couch, looking down at him. "What is it, Silver?"

"Watch this." His body began to glow, as he squinted as hard as he could, his face tensing up, moving his hand towards the coffee table in front of us. With a tiny grunt, he began to lift it up off the ground without touching it, a greenish glow engulfing the object.

"Is...isn't this so cool?" He struggles to speak the words, the telekinesis straining his mind. I become slightly concerned, but figure he's not really hurting as much as it may seem.

"Yes, Silver. It's very cool indeed," I confirm with a smile. I'm very glad that Silver seems to be learning and growing his abilities on his own. I was scared that I was going to have to somehow teach them to him. I don't know anything about this kind of thing. "Can you put the table back down gently, though?"

"I'll...I'll try, daddy!"

He lowers it a little, then runs out of energy, releasing it with a large THUMP as it hits the living room floor. The noise is enough to arouse Omega, who enters the room with all of his guns drawn, ready to fire.

"I HEARD A POSSIBLE HOSTILE INVADE THIS ROOM. SHALL I ENGAGE COMBAT PROTOCOLS?"

Silver jumps back on the couch and cowers behind me, shaking, repeating that he's sorry over and over. Omega and Silver get along fine, but sometimes the old killing machine will have outbursts like this that truly terrify the little guy.

"Omega, everything is okay. We just had a little accident with the telekinesis. Please put away your weapons, there's no need for them."

Omega looks at Silver, then looks down, ashamed.

"I APOLOGIZE FOR FRIGHTENING YOUNG SILVER. I WILL NOW TAKE A WALK IN THE PARK TO ENGAGE DE-STRESSING DIAGNOSTICS. PLEASE LET THE SNICKERDOODLES OUT OF THE OVEN IN T-MINUS 5 MINUTES AND 44 SECONDS."

Omega goes for walks in the park often these days to wind himself down. Despite being decommissioned for decades, he still acts like an enemy will attack at any time. I suppose it's all part of his programming. The walks he takes seem to be having a positive effect on him. I guess he's starting to actually take in the beauty of the world that he fought hard to protect. I discovered his journal a few months ago. It was filled to the brim with drawings of birds that could be found in our area. I didn't know he even acknowledged small wildlife like that. Granted, the drawings were very crude and scribbled, but I suppose it was the best he could do with his massive, hulking, robotic fingers clutching what must have been a comically small pencil.

After Omega left, Silver relaxed and sat beside me on the couch.

"Daddy, why does he always call me 'the young Silver?' Why not just Silver?"

I'm briefly startled. Silver has never asked about this before. Obviously, I can't tell Silver about how I used to know him when he was grown up and visiting the past. I don't know if it would have some sort of effect on him that changes the future. I don't want to deceive him though. I made it a promise to myself that even though I will keep his future a secret, I would never lie to him.

So what do I tell him? The truth.

"He's an old bot. Sometimes, things get a bit mixed up in his programming. Be patient with him, my son."

While Omega is definitely intelligent, he has a hard time processing the older Silver we knew and the Silver currently in our care as the same person, despite their similar appearance. "Young Silver" is a shortcut his verbal programming takes to help him understand.

Silver looks up to me and smiles. "Okay, daddy." God, I love it when he smiles for me. Let's me know that I make him happy.

We sit on the couch and watch TV for the rest of the afternoon, snacking on Omega's snickerdoodles (which, by the way, were very tasty). Sure, it's lazy, but it's Christmas Eve. We don't have anywhere we need to be. And I need to spend time with my boy to keep my mind off of my trip to the cemetery this morning. It keeps coming back to me during commercial breaks, or when Silver's in the bathroom. Sometimes I'll relive a few seconds of the despair of the years between their deaths and Silver's arrival. Maybe some annoying car salesman will look like someone I used to know, and punch me in the gut with painful memories. It's been much easier to resist this year since Silver's not a toddler anymore and can have full conversations with me, but it's no cakewalk.

Right now, as we're halfway through an episode of That 2010s Show, and Silver's cuddled against my chest fluff again, I'm thinking about his questioning of Omega's moniker for him. Thinking about the days when he used to just be Silver, with no "young" attached. I wonder how hard it was not to refer to me as his father. Maybe he stopped seeing me as his father, since I'm not his father biologically. I'd rather not consider that. It's all surreal to me though. I used to just blow him off in the past. Considered him a bit annoying and nowhere near as powerful as he believed himself to be. Now I don't know anyone else I'd rather spend my time with. To think that I almost gave him up to an orphanage at first. I didn't know if I could handle a child with my depression, but I figured he was safer in my hands than anyone else's.

I look down at him. He's dozing off a bit, but still awake enough to sing along with the next show's theme song. He's so...cute. I don't know if I had the ability to consider things cute in the past, but Silver fits that description to a T.

Time passed fast. It's late now. Well, late for Silver. It's around 8:30, a little bit past his bedtime. Damn, I guess we totally missed dinner. The show we're watching comes to a close, and as the credits roll, he turns to me.

"Daaaaaaddy, can we watch a SCARY movie now? Please?"

I chuckle a bit. Little guy probably assumed that if he could get away with staying up this late, he could get away with that too. I almost say yes, but an obvious thought crosses my mind.

"No, Silver. You'll be up all night. Santa doesn't deliver presents to children who won't sleep."

His eyes goes wide and he gasps. "You're right! I need to go to bed right now!"

I smirk to myself. Now those are words I never hear. He always whines about having to go to sleep. The promise of new toys in the morning must be doing this to him.

I lead him up the stairs to his bedroom. Legos, building blocks, stuffed animals, and other toys are scattered across the floor. The walls are covered in posters from cartoons he likes and drawings he made that wouldn't fit on our fridge. Above it all, suspended from the ceiling, is a beautiful model of the solar system, with all 8 planets and a sun in the center. It was my gift to him on his birthday (which we celebrate on the anniversary of the day he came into my care). I spent hours working on it while he was at kindergarten so it would be all done when he got home. He absolutely loves it.

Silver jumps into his racecar bed and I tuck him in. I wish him goodnight, kiss his forehead, and make my way to the door. Just before I leave, I hear his hushed voice call out for me.

"...Daddy? Do you think Santa...thinks I'm 'Nice?'"

I turn towards him. On the surface, the question doesn't matter. It's not like Santa is real. I already bought the presents, and tonight, they're going under the tree regardless of what some mythical, omniscient fat man in a red suit thinks of my son. But of course, on a deeper level, something's troubling him. I need to help ease his mind so he can sleep better tonight.

"Why wouldn't he, Silver?" I ask, sitting beside him. He looks a bit guilty.

"Just...sometimes in school, I can be naughty sometimes," he confesses, looking away towards his feet. "When the other kids pick on me...I sometimes lose control and act bad…"

I sigh internally. I know what he's referring to. Silver doesn't get along with other children very well. He just isn't able to connect socially with them. During recess, he likes to practice his telekinesis alone and away from everyone else. He's been teased pretty heavily for his powers, which has led to a few outbursts. I've been to numerous parent-teacher conferences about it. Quite frankly, I never get why it's always my kid getting in trouble. He wouldn't have these episodes if the other kids minded their damn business. I'm not saying Silver is never in the wrong, but his bullies need to be taught a lesson. Hopefully their parents are the ones to do it, but I'm not faithful.

"No. You're not naughty," I reassure him. "Trust me, Santa can tell when it's not your fault. He can see that you're nice at heart and that even though you're not perfect, you at least try to get better."

He looks back at me, and a smile forms on his face. He reaches his arms out to hug me. I hug him back.

"Thanks, daddy. That made me feel better."

"No problem, Silver." He's so relaxed in my arms. So safe.

"I love you daddy."

"I love you too. Forever."

I set him back in his bed. He snuggles into his blankets, smiling.

Moments later, I'm finding myself in the living room, taking presents from their hiding spot in a locked drawer on the entertainment dresser and putting them under the tree. Omega is here helping me/ I spent a good portion of my income spoiling my boy with presents. Toy rockets, cars, stuffed animals, even a video game system. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he opens it all up. Nothing makes me happier than seeing him happy.

Still, something's on my mind that won't go away. Something about the conversation I had with him a few minutes ago. Now that I'm without him, the thoughts about my morning in the cemetery earlier are coming back. I'm trying to shake them out of my mind. I swear if I didn't feel such an obligation to honor their memory, I wouldn't come to their graves at all. It has too much of a negative psychological effect on me.

We get done with the presents and Omega leaves to power down for the night. I'm alone now. My thoughts are still clouded. Why is my reassurance to Silver that he wasn't naughty bothering me? How is it connected to my cemetery visit? Was it something he said? Something I said?

Wait, that's it. No, no, god no. What was it I said to him?

"I love you too. Forever."

Forever

No. Godammit. I've had this feeling before but - it's never come on this strong. I can usually ignore it. I'm starting to shake. I sit down on the couch to calm myself down. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Silver is not going to - no, don't even let the word cross your mind. Silver, the child who gave your life meaning again, who taught you how to feel again, who brought hope to you when for years you toiled without direction through depression, is not going to - dammit, I can't do this.

I throw my face in my hands. I've fought the idea for years. It sometimes shows up as an intrusive thought but never so prominent that I couldn't just distract myself until it went away. But tonight, as I sit alone in this empty room, only illuminated by the LED lights on the Christmas tree, I'm confronted with my worst fear, a fear made much more terrible by the fact that it's completely rational and fully inevitable.

Someday, Silver is going to join the others beneath the earth. He'll be buried in that same cemetery. You'll be alone, Shadow. Sure, you'll have Omega. But did Omega help you before? When your friends first began to pass away? He barely reacted. You could hardly confide in him, even if he is your best friend. This boy, who you're spending so much time to bring up right, to make sure he can become the hero you know he turns into, who fills your heart with love and passion, will meet the same fate as everyone else. Worse, as time marches on, he'll become another distant memory. The brief time you have with him now will feel like nothing compared to the centuries ahead of you. You'll be alone. You'll be alone and there's nothing you can do about it, because nobody lives forever. Nobody, except for you.

I'm sobbing. I'm not supposed to undergo this now. It's too early. He's only SIX dammit! No. No. I need to get over this. I need to stay strong for him. But there's no coming back from this. Now that I'm acknowledging it, it's always going to be at the back of my mind. Everything is going to change. I won't look at him the same, and he'll notice. Maybe I'm being dramatic again. No, no I'm not. I'm panicking. I'm freaking out. It's too real. I can't stop it. God, why can't I stop it?

"Dad?"

An all-too-familiar voice reaches my ears. I look up, wiping the tears from my face.

"Dad, it's me."

It's him. But he's older. He's tall, and his quills are longer. He looks the way he did long ago, during our adventures. I can't even speak. He sits down next to me on the couch and pulls me into a hug. I reciprocate, and sob into his chest fur. Why is he here? Does he know what I'm going through?

I look up at him. At my son. He has an understanding expression, probably reacting to my sad, pitiful state.

"H-How..?"

"Chaos control, remember?" he replies with a smile and a wink.

"But why tonight?"

"You told me about this night some time in the future. Heck, if I wasn't here with you right now, then there would be some major paradox in the timeline. Someone's got to keep these time loops stable, don't they?"

I will never truly understand time travel. But right now, it doesn't matter. He's here for a reason. I stay quiet so he can keep talking, still sniffling a bit.

"I know what you're thinking about. Your immortality, right? How I'm not going to stick around for eternity?"

I nod. We've broken the hug now, and are sitting just a few inches apart. I'm still holding back some tears.

"It's just...so hard to accept. I still haven't fully gotten over the others, and...When you go, it's going to be even worse."

He takes my hand in his.

"It's hard for me too. All of our friends were gone before I was even born. Every time I return from the past I have to remember that. But it's not all bad."

I turn from him for a second. I hadn't even considered how he viewed my friends from his perspective. I look back.

"How...How do you cope with that?"

"I have the confidence that I was able to impact their life positively before they passed, and that keeps me going."

"It's different for me though," I say, as I start to choke up a bit. It's one thing to have this fear, it's another to express it to the single person who is involved in it. "Not only do I have to get over the deaths in my life, but I have to live on forever without them. Without you. What am I to do? Without you, I'm just going to slip into the depressive state I spend decades in until 6 years ago when you graced my life. I'm scared, Silver."

He thinks for a moment. Obviously, when future-me told him about this meeting, he didn't tell him the specifics of what he said. It hurts my brain a little to think about that, but nothing like the pain I have going through me right now.

"Dad...Think about it like this."

He looks me in the eyes and puts his hands on my shoulders. I face him again, getting better at maintaining my composure.

"You've done so much for me. Even though in the past, before you even knew I was going to be your son, I wasn't someone you particularly cared for, you willingly took me in so many years later. You provided care and love for me, and taught me how to be the hero I am. Sure, you can say that it was fate, that because I was a hero in the past that I was destined to grow up like that anyways, but even fate isn't a sure thing. You put in the effort to assure that I could be the greatest version of myself across any timeline, and for that I thank you."

I'm emotionally stirred by all of this. I'm not sure what it has to do with alleviating my fear, but it certainly is making me feel a lot better, at least superficially.

"Dad, what you got to understand is, even if I'm not going to be around forever, the power to be a good influence on others, to teach them compassion, love, and heroism, is still there within you. You don't have to stop using it when I die, or even when I'm no longer in your care."

I widen my eyes. I'm starting to see what he's getting at.

"I know that things have been boring for you the past few decades. But as a time traveller, you can believe me when I say that someday in the future, evil is going to return, and newer generations are going to look to you for guidance. You don't have to worry about how you'll be when I'm gone, because you still have a purpose, Dad. You can let my spirit live on in your teachings."

I begin to cry again, but with a different tone. How could I be so foolish as to think that the time after he pases will be the same as after the other passed? That I will have learned nothing about myself from raising Silver? That there will be nothing for me ever again? That somehow, it would ever be possible for me to forget about him?

I hug him again, this older version of my dear child, a reflection of my most positive traits. Not even thoughts of the cemetery seem so bad to me anymore. He has just made me understand something about myself that should have been clear to me all along.

"You're entirely right, Silver. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it," I say, sobbing into his chest fur for the second time tonight.

"Hey, it's okay!" he says chuckling. "What's family for, anyways?"

He breaks the hug and steps off the couch. I wipe away my tears. What's he doing.

"I apologize for this, but I can't stay for too long. I know that sounds ridiculous since I'm time traveling, but you still experience aging when you travel to the past and when you do that as much as I do you need to limit yourself before it becomes a real problem. Besides, I need to get back to my father, who is just now putting the finishing touches on Christmas dinner with Omega."

I didn't understand his spiel about aging, but the last part made me grin.

"Before you go," I speak up, "I want you to remember that I love you. Forever. And I mean that, Silver."

He smiles warmly. "I love you too, Shadow - I mean Dad. God, sometimes I mess that up when I'm interacting with you in the past but not so far back that you don't know me yet. Anyways, goodbye, for now."

I chuckle to myself at his mistake as he performs a chaos control, leaving me alone in the living room again. I sit back on the couch and reflect on what just happened. I feel relief. I feel, for the first time in a long time, I know my place in the universe. And above all, I feel an unwavering, unrepentant, and undying love for my son.

THE END